


forget me not

by sabswrites



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic, F/M, Loss of Parent(s), Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 07:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabswrites/pseuds/sabswrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma is sick with the flu, causing Killian to reminisce over the details of his mother’s passing, and become extra paranoid over Emma’s health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forget me not

╰☆╮ 

Killian skipped through the grassy meadow, placidly collecting flowers for a bouquet. He felt safe here. The breeze blew through his hair and the sun shone on his skin and he felt secure. Past the hill where his cottage stood, he caught glimpses of the sparkling, sapphire waters. For some indescribable reason, he always felt a certain bond with the ocean that filled him with mirth and joy.

His father sometimes spoke of adventures that may await upon the sea, and nothing made Killian happier than to daydream about such journeys. He could just imagine it. His parents, Liam, and himself, sailing away to discover the secrets the ocean held.

As he pondered the specifics of such an adventure, he continued gathering. His hands spilled with sunny daisies, tulips, and of course forget-me-nots. His mother had often told him how they were her favorite as they held the azure pigmentation of her Killian’s eyes. Killian loved his mother more than anyone in the entire world, and was always eager to put a smile on her face.

When he was sated with his arrangement, he skipped back towards his home. Killian stealthily opened the door and snuck inside where his mother lay in bed. She had recently fallen victim to illness, and had been prescribed bedrest by the village apothecary. When she saw her son however, any trace of the sickly paleness that tormented her face, seemed to melt away. What replaced it, was the most magical smile in all the realms. It brought a slight crimson color to her cheeks and put the light back into her cerulean eyes.

“Mother,” Killian started as she lifted him up into her arms. “I’ve brought you a present!”

“Oh have you now?” his mother responded, voice filled with humor. “I can only guess that you’ve come to bring me the finest jewels in the land.”

This brought upon a fit of laughter from Killian, as he reached one of his little hands behind his head to scratch the space behind his ear. “Well, not quite…” he admitted somewhat shamefully. If anyone deserved piles of fine jewels and riches, Killian thought, it was his mother. She had the kindest soul of anyone in this realm, and was immensely worthy of wondrous treasures.

Alas, Killian’s family was quite poor. He himself was clothed in a tunic, once belonging to Liam, that had quite obviously been stitched and refitted several times. Although the Jones’ faced their struggles, they were an incredibly happy family. As long as they had his mother around, Killian couldn’t imagine their household being anything short of blissful.

Killian slowly brought his other hand out in front of him, revealing the bouquet that he had tried his best to tie together with a spare bit of ribbon.

His mother let out a delighted gasp as she accepted the flowers with quivering hands. “Oh, Killian!” she exclaimed, “This is the most lovely gift I have ever been lucky enough to receive. Whatever have I done to be blessed with an angel such as yourself?”

Killian let out another giggle and hugged his mother with all his might. “I love you, mother.” He whispered into the crook of her neck.

“I love you too, Killian.”

No more than two seconds afterward, she broke into a violent fit of coughing. The color once again drained from her face as she began wheezing. Liam soon rushed over to guide Killian away as their father ran to her side. Killian looked back at his mother with concern, but had faith that she’d be alright.

╰☆╮

Wadded up tissues and mountains of blankets covered the bedroom floor. It took Killian a few minutes to excavate Emma from her cocoon of quilts after he carefully maneuvered himself to the bed where she lay. Immense focus and stealth were required to keep himself from waking her as he navigated the area, but he was a pirate after all.

She had been ill with a nasty flu for the past few days, and even though she insisted she was alright, it didn’t cease his ever growing concern for her wellbeing. Yet even in her most vulnerable state, hair tousled and nose flushed with vermillion, she still looked fierce and beautiful.

As he, dipped down to sit alongside her on the mattress, Killian gently stroked her hair. This prompted a meak groan from her as she slowly open her eyelids. Languidly, Emma’s jade orbs began to reveal themselves and her mouth provided a tiny smile.

“Good morning, Captain,” She said in a raspy voice.

“Well, It’s three in the afternoon, but it’s nice to see you, Swan,” He smiled back.

Emma stretched, popping several joints as she did so. She proceeded to yawn and sit back against the headboard, leaning her head on Killian’s shoulder.

“Sorry, all I feel like doing lately is sleeping.”

“That’s alright, love,” he chuckled. “Do whatever you need to feel better. In the meantime can I get you anything?”

Emma couldn’t help but smile at his utter sincerity. If there were any remaining doubts flooding her mind concerning the fact that this man would do absolutely anything for her, they dissipated in that moment.

“Well I’d never say no to a grilled cheese,” She replied after a beat. “Ohh and maybe a hot chocolate too? You know the drill.”

“As you wish my lady,” He whispered before placing a featherlight kiss atop her head, and starting out the door.

╰☆╮

A fortnight passed and Killian’s mother showed no sign of recovery. Her once vividly azure eyes were now drained grey, and her hands felt colder than ever. Coughing fits became increasingly more common. The deathly sound of his mother’s life dwindling away haunted Killian’s dreams, and filled him with more anxiety than any boy of his years should be burdened with.

The apothecary visited on a night when dark clouds plagued the sky and lightning flashed violently. Killian had been sentenced to remain in his bedroom with his brother, but as soon as Liam fell into a slumber he sneaked his way towards his mother’s bedroom. When he pressed his ear against the door, three distinct voices could be heard.

“Will she live?” asked his father, his voice was filled with pain and desperation and something else indistinguishable.

Killian heard his mother once again erupt with coughs, and listened to her struggle to breathe as she wheezed.

“The Winter Fever has taken several from our village in the past few weeks,” voiced the apothecary. There was a very pregnant pause before he continued to speak. “I do know of a cure. But it requires aspects of the darkest of magi-”

“NO!” his mother managed to shout over her hacking. “I will never have be children exposed to such. The dangerous are unimaginable.”

Her voice trailed off, signaling that she was too weak to continue.

“Very well then.”

╰☆╮

As the days passed Emma’s illness did not cease. It persistently harbored itself in her body, affecting not only her physical health, but her magic as well. A sniffle: the lights flickered A cough: all candles in her immediate area became lit. A sneeze: the entire fireplace was sent ablaze.

Although she insisted that it would pass, Killian grew more and more cautious. Until one evening he came home to find her passed out on the floor. Beads of sweat coated the crown of her head and pooled in the crevice of her neck. Her skin that normally glowed in the sunlight appeared worryingly pale, and her soft lips were tinted with gaunt hints of blue.

Killian rushed to her side with more urgency than he had ever formerly possessed. He grabbed her hand and fell to his knees, pleading her name in a mantra.

╰☆╮

Two days after the apothecary’s visit, Killian was trying his best to help his mother in every way he knew how. Liam and his father were down at the market, leaving him alone to care for her. He tidied around the house, brought her her medicine (dry tablets consisting of crab’s eyes, red coral, white amber, burnt hartshorn, oriental bezoar and jelly of vipers), and even attempted to prepare meals. Supper time and seven year old boys didn’t exactly mix well, but his efforts were appreciated.

As he stirred a pot of hazelnut soup, careful not to burn his hands on the open flame, he heard a petrifying noise from down the hall. He cautiously set the pot down, put out the flame, and got up to investigate.

He neared the bedroom and identified the distinct noise of his mother’s expectorations. His heart twinged with fear as he drew closer and closer. When he reached the door, his hand hovered for a moment above the knob. Tears suddenly filled his eyes, and he realized how afraid he was. He was all alone. It was up to him to face the horror that awaited on the other side of that door, and he was just so so scared. He opened the door, and what awaited him on the other side was nothing short of horrific.

“MOTHER!” he yelped as he rushed to her side. She was on the floor lying on her side. Blood spilt out of her mouth and dripped into a puddle by her head. With every cough, more came up, and her body became more and more deadened. “Mother please! ” he begged on his knees, tears blinded him, and he never felt more powerless. “Mother I- let me help you I-”

And just like that, it was over. Her eyes rolled back, her body stiffened, and her breath faded away.

╰☆╮

As Emma regained consciousness, she slowly fluttered her eyelids open to find herself in a sterilized hospital room. The noise from the halls carried through the walls and pounded in her head, and the strong chemical odor invaded her lungs, launching her into a fit of coughing. She turned her head to find Killian grasping her hand in his. His eyes appeared glassy with fear and concern, and the dark circles under his eyes told her that he hadn’t slept in a while.

“Swan,” he started with a shaky smile, “you scared me. How do you feel now? Do you need something?”

“I feel like shit.” She muttered. This brought forth a paltry smile from Killian that seemed a bit forced. “Hey,” She continued in a groggy voice. “Are you crying?”

Killian bowed his head in an attempt to hide his face from her, but Emma wouldn’t have it. “Killian, hey, why are you so freaked out?”

“When I was a boy,” he started, pain building up in his throat, “I watched my mother die from a sickness similar to this one.” Emma’s hand tightened around his, edging him on. “If I lost you I-”

“Hey,” she interrupted. “I’m going to be fine. In this world we have the marvels of modern medicine.”

“How very fortunate.”

╰☆╮

The forget-me-not symbolizes true, undying love, connections that last through time, and remembrances after death. Before they buried his mother, Killian placed a single one of these flowers in her hand.

“They always were her favorite.” he whispered to Liam.

╰☆╮

Emma’s illness cleared up a few days later, and as they returned to their home, arm in arm, Killian paused at the flowers that were planted in the front garden.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked, following his line of vision.

“Huh,” he breathed. “Forget-me-nots.”


End file.
